


Boyfriend Under the Bed

by forceofduality



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Demon AU, Demon Kylo Ren, Dubious Consent, F/M, Ghost Anakin, Ghost Luke, Ghosts, Mind the Tags, NSFW, Oral Sex, Sex, Vaginal Sex, based on a nsfw comic, dubcon, ghost han, incubus au, mainly just for fun, merry crew of idiots, non believer rey, she definitely is a believer by the end, this fic is kinda crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forceofduality/pseuds/forceofduality
Summary: Plutt had been trying to rent out this blasted apartment for years. Each day,  he glared at the topmost window of the building. It taunted him in its stillness. A reminder of the money that should be flowing into his pockets.If only it wasn't for the damn ghosts.To his delight, a young, cheery English woman by the name of Rey appeared on his doorstep and asked to rent the flat. She didn't believe in ghosts, demons, or nonsense superstitions.Little does she know...there's something waiting for her under the bed.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey
Comments: 7
Kudos: 98





	1. Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Please mind the tags. This story has an element of non-con due to the nature of the material. If that is not something you wish to read, then please exit now. For those on board, enjoy!

Plutt had been trying to rent out this blasted apartment for years. Each day, as he slowly made his way back to the building that housed his office on the ground floor and three units above, he glared at the topmost window. It taunted him in its stillness. A reminder of the money that should be flowing into his pockets. 

If only it wasn't for the damn fucking  _ ghosts _ .

The place was cursed. He knew the backstory of it all too well. The whole  _ state _ knew. The story of the infamous Mustafar Cult was a damn Netflix special, for crying out loud. A crazy group of demon-worshiping freaks had used the apartment as some sort of sacred sacrificing slash summoning ground back in the ‘70s.

No one actually knew what had happened to the cult. Or, more accurately, no one knew who had slaughtered them. All nine of their bodies had been found, torn to shreds like an animal had ripped through them, in the middle of that apartment. That had been long before the building had fallen into Plutt's hands.

But the bloody backstory wasn't even the worst part. The place was haunted. Of  _ course _ it was. Plutt knew that better than anyone else. He’d come face-to-face with the spirits inside and vowed to never step foot in there again. He denied every cheesy paranormal investigator's request to do a special on the place. Partly because he didn't need any more bad press about the apartment, but mainly because he knew even the dumbest hunter  _ would _ find something.

As a last-ditch resort, Plutt swallowed his pride and listed the apartment for a woefully small pittance to rent. He'd need to be selective if anyone took the bait, but he wanted  _ some _ income at the very least. Anything was better than nothing. The rent he was asking would at least allow him to maintain his pack-a-day smoking habit.

He’d expected crooks, thieves, druggies, and the like to come nipping at the bait. And so they did. He turned all of them away, day after day, slowly losing hope. Then, the most curious creature walked through his office door. 

A young Brit came to inquire about the apartment. She looked like a damn teenager, and sure enough, she was only 19 according to her student visa. She said she'd come to America to attend school on scholarship, which allotted money for housing but did not have on-campus accommodations. He listened with half an ear as she promised no parties, to keep the place clean, and all the regular nonsense a landlord would want to hear.

What he cared about most was her temperament. In his limited experience, he found the English to be a meek, mild mannered lot. Kept their feelings suppressed. Stayed civil.

Just what he needed to make sure the spirits weren't drawn out. 

If he’d learned anything about them by now, it was this: they fed on strong emotions. This girl...may be exactly what the doctor ordered.

* * *

"Holy shit...this place is amazing." 

Treading the ground on light footsteps, Rey slowly surveyed her new flat. Her  _ own _ home. Giddiness welled up within her as she took in the natural light, the dark wooden floors, the  _ space _ . The place was sparsely furnished; a single couch and coffee table occupied the living room and faded curtains draped the windows. The kitchen and washroom were bare with the exception of appliances, and the bedroom held only a bed and two nightstands. 

The bed was  _ huge _ . Rey’s jaw dropped when she saw it. She stopped herself short of taking a running leap into it when the musty smell of old bedsheets hit her. Wrinkling her nose, she parked her single large suitcase and perched her hands on her hips.

The place needed a good scrub, that was for sure. Easy enough. The apartment was also somehow  _ ridiculously _ cold, despite being on the fourth story with summer creeping around the corner. Shivering in her thrift store-acquired sundress, she opened all the windows to allow some warmth in, then left once more.

When she came back, she was armed with a number of bags from the dollar store, all filled to the brim with off-brand cleaning supplies. Changing into a pair of shorts and a tank she fished out of her suitcase, she set to work dusting, mopping, washing, and febreze-ing everything she could get her hands on, humming a cheery tune as she went along.

Despite what Plutt may have thought when he handed over the keys to the flat with a dark smirk on his lips, Rey wasn't naive. She knew that there was a bloody history to this apartment. Hell, when she Googled the address from the advertisement, the first  _ several _ results to pop up before the listing were news articles, think pieces, and even a  _ Buzzfeed _ review of the Netflix documentary. 

Her curiosity had led her to click a few of those links. She read all about the cult and their bloody demise. Eyes flicking over her cracked screen on the bus ride over, she read that many people believe her new place is haunted by an infestation of ghosts, spirits, and demons.

What utter tosh.

You couldn't take a single step on English soil without disturbing a grave, or walking into a murder site, or trudging through a bit of sordid history. If any place should have demons, it's England. America was still a baby as far as history was concerned. She had been in loos older than this country.

No, she wasn't scared at all of ghosts or spirits or demons. She simply didn't believe in them.

So when a strange noise came from somewhere in the bedroom, she chalked it up to old pipes. And when the spray bottle went shooting into the hallway? Well, that was odd. But harmless, anyway. Probably a particularly strong draft of wind.

It only took a handful of hours for her to feel as though the place was sufficiently scrubbed of old grime and dust. The sheets for the bed were run through the wash a few times and doused in copious amounts of bleach and softener. It made the already-faded design look even more withered, but that kind of rustic look was chic now, wasn't it?

Needing a good scrub herself, she hopped into the shower and lathered her discount soaps and creams all over in order to rid herself of the smell of chemicals. She massaged her sore muscles, standing under the jet-like hot spray to work the knots out of her neck and shoulders. By the time she was finished in the bathroom, the sun was setting over the horizon. With nothing else to be done, she fished out one of the plastic cups she had gotten at the dollar store and poured a helping of cheap wine (it wasn’t important how she got her hands on the bottle). Holding it to the air, she toasted, "Cheers!" 

She had a feeling she was going to like it here. Very, very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Jessica here! On behalf of Julia and I, we hope you will enjoy this little story. We're sorry we haven't been prompt with updating our other fics. A lot has been going on behind the scenes, leaving us with little time. I adapted this story from its original RP format into a more readable version a while ago for fun. Again, we hope you enjoy! Let us know what you think!


	2. Demons

If it were possible for a demon to die, Kylo would have a long time ago. From cold, starvation, boredom, loneliness....any number of characteristics of his pitiful excuse for a life would do. 

The apartment he’d become tethered to was more miserable than his true home. Hell at least had been warm and full of others like himself. Here, he was the only incubus among a band of ghostly personifications, who incessantly bickered amongst themselves as there were no humans to annoy instead—and of course, there was the one, great monster who’d accompanied them when they’d been ripped from the other side into this world. But Kylo didn’t like to think about _him_. 

Thankfully, _he_ slept dormant most of the time. Even so, whenever Kylo felt a certain chill ripple through the air, or heard the scraping of claws against brick, he dove under the safety of a large, dusty bed—left behind by the last, _unfortunate_ tenants of the place. Kylo didn’t even get to play with one of them before _he_ ripped them into a thousand, bloody pieces.

One grey afternoon, Kylo was curled up beneath his bed as usual, drifting in and out of slumber as the volume of ghostly banter rose and fell outside his door. But then everything went silent. The whole apartment held its breath before the front door creaked open on rusted hinges. 

It couldn’t be that lardy landlord, or any maintenance worker. The ghosts didn’t stop their chatting for _those_ men, though their visits were few and far between. No, this felt different, Kylo could sense it. He poked his head out from under the bed, eyes narrowed as he took a deep breath through his nose. Something in the air smelled...soft. _Feminine_. 

His eyes blackened as a grin spread across his dark lips. A female visitor, was it? Lucifer almighty, he hadn’t so much as _seen_ a female, not since that last tattooed teenager got her head ripped off... Not even one of the other ghosts were women. No, this place was quite the demonic bachelor’s den... 

“Who’s that?” One of the ghosts—Luke, the chattiest of them all—whispered outside. “A new tenant?” 

“Don’t be stupid, it’s probably just another inspector...” gruffed Han.

“Why’s she carrying a suitcase, then?”

“Can she hear us?” Anakin, the third spirit, whispered. The others had no reply as every entity in the apartment listened to the light footsteps wandering from room to room.

Kylo held his breath as a human voice—a _woman’s_ voice, young and elegant—echoed through the small space. The ghosts started up their excited whispering again. Kylo’s claws curled against the floor as he hissed at them, effectively shutting them up—for a moment, at least. 

“Careful boys, the incubus wants to hear the pretty girl walk around,” Luke said as the others snickered. 

“She won’t be walking much tomorrow if she stays the night...” 

Kylo snarled under his breath at their teasing, but his pointed ears remained perked, listening to what seemed like approaching footsteps until the bedroom door cracked open. 

Crouching fully back under the shadows of the mattress, he watched as a pair of scuffed up sneakers and _lovely_ , slender ankles made their way to the center of the room. A rolling case of some sort followed the girl inside. 

Kylo’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he took another deep breath, his head swimming from the heady human perfume clouding the room. The other ghosts couldn’t pick up on this. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if the _other_ demon could. But Kylo was designed to seek out this smell, to chase it relentlessly and devour its source, like a wolf and fresh blood. Except his way of _devouring_ was a bit different from a natural predator...or a supernatural one.

Kylo tensed as horrible images of torn flesh and blood filled his mind before the girl’s movement distracted him. As her feet shifted to the edges of the room and faded sunlight poured over the wood floors, Kylo crammed himself even further at the darkest corner of the bed. His tail flicked in frustration as he watched the girl’s feet pad out of the room. So she just was going to trap him with light and leave him here? 

How rude. 

He perked up when she returned, but not for long, as she soon covered up that sweet, glorious perfume of hers with the acrid smell of bleach and artificial fragrances. The smell was so pungent, Kylo barely got to enjoy the fluttering of her sundress to the floor before she started scrubbing every surface in sight. 

He crossed his arms over his face to block out the chemicals, screwing his eyes shut to keep them from watering, but it only helped so much. A low growl rose in his throat before his tail flicked out from the bed, flinging one of the spray bottles into the hallway.

Kylo wasn’t normally one for throwing things about to scare the maintenance men, nor any other visitor for that matter. Though he _did_ fling things in frustration at times, or occasionally break a window, frightening people wasn’t his forte. More often than not, he terrorized the ghosts for scaring all the humans away with their stupid antics. 

Still, when the girl didn’t even _notice_ the sound he made, nor the bottle he threw a good ten feet or so, he boiled with irritation. She couldn’t just come ruin his home and _ignore_ him! 

It seemed he wasn’t the only disappointed one, as he soon heard the ghosts lamenting in the other rooms. 

“I can’t believe it. It took everything I had to move that table an inch, and she didn’t even see it!” 

“Forget your table, I just tapped on the shower door as loud as I could and she kept washing away!” 

Shower? Damn it all! Why did _Han_ get to see that and not him? Oh, right, he wasn’t bound to the darkness as he wasn’t a demon. That weakness was only reserved for Kylo and Sn— _him_. 

“Well, she’s out now—“ Luke started to say before Kylo called out pitifully from under the bed. 

“What does she look like? Please, just tell me, it’s too bright to see...”

“Hear that, boys?” Han chuckled. “The pervert wants a description.”

“A fantasy!” 

“Stroking material!” 

Kylo rolled his eyes as Luke’s head poked through the wall to grin at him under the bed. 

“She’s a real sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure.” 

“Details....” Kylo hissed. 

“Well, she’s got brown hair, hazel eyes...about six of them. And ten hands and the tail of a platypus.” 

“I asked you to describe the human, not your mother—“ Kylo snarled before the girl’s voice rang out, distracting them both. 

_“Cheers!”_

“Cheers to you too, sweetheart!” Han drawled from the other room, and Luke disappeared, leaving Kylo to sulk alone. 

* * *

Gasping, Rey whipped around when the plastic cup full of wine she had _just_ placed on the counter went crashing to the ground with a splash the very second she turned her back on it. 

“Well, shoot,” she muttered. With a sigh, she shrugged. “Well, not like it was expensive anyway.” 

Grabbing a handful of paper towels and a wipe, she cleaned up the spill and rinsed out the plastic cup in the sink before pouring herself another helping of wine. This time she kept it in her hand.

Humming as she went into the living room, she flopped onto the couch and frowned at the coffee table. It was a bit further away than comfortable, so she placed her cup on it (carefully in the middle) and brought it closer.

“There we go...” she murmured. Pulling out her cracked iPhone, she settled back down and searched for a YouTube video to watch while she sipped her wine. The light was slowly waning from the room, and she felt too lazy to go turn on the overhead. Slowly, the room darkened until only her face was illuminated by the glow of her phone.

* * *

Judging from the harsh sound of Anakin’s laughter, rising above all the others, Kylo could guess he was the one who spilled the girl’s drink. He could hear her muttering to herself but couldn’t make out the exact words. 

Damn this curiosity. Damn the sun. Another growl rumbled in his throat as he reached a hand slowly out from under the bed, testing the faint evening glow. His fingers sizzled immediately. Yanking his hand back, he winced at the tingling, burning sensation, nose wrinkling at the smoke dancing from the tips of his blackened claws. He didn’t know why he even bothered. No daylight meant no daylight, no exceptions, no grey areas. 

Rolling onto his back, he sighed as his tail thumped impatiently, waiting for nightfall. After what felt like hours, it was finally pitch black beneath the bed. He slid to the edge of the mattress and peered out. Craning his neck, he could just barely see the edge of the window, and the navy blue, star speckled sky beyond.

 _Finally_. 

Crawling out from under the bed, he sighed as he straightened up, joints cracking and muscles stretching with delicious friction. Ahh, much better. Pressing himself up against the wall, he carefully peered out from the doorframe, seeing clearly through the darkness to the living room.

He could easily make out a human form lying on the sofa. If he had a heart, it would’ve skipped a beat as he scanned his black eyes over a pair of long, tan legs, bare arms, and a lean torso hidden beneath a thin little top. As titillating as the sight was, he wanted more than anything to see the girl’s face. But some awful _glowing thing_ distorted his vision and made his eyes burn. 

“Stupid humans and their stupid technology...hey!” Kylo called out, not to the girl but to the ghosts. “Anakin! Han! Any of you, get that—that blasted thing out of her hands!” 

“My name isn’t ‘any of you’,” Luke pouted as he floated around the ceiling fan. 

“ _Luke_ , come on, just...just let me see her, you know I can’t see in the light!” 

“Say plea—“ 

“PLEASE!” 

“Satan alive, fine, okay, okay...” Luke huffed, drifting down from the ceiling. “You really are weak if you can’t move a simple...uh...whatever that thing is....” 

“Weak? Sure, let’s see how strong you are in comparison,” Kylo shot back, crossing his arms as he waited for the ghost to work his magic. 

Luke didn’t bother trying to move the phone on his own. Instead, he called over the others, whispering something about Kylo owing them one, before all six wispy blue hands came together to snatch the phone from the girl’s fingers.

“Almost there...” 

“She’s got a strong grip, the perv will like that—“ 

“Aha!” 

The phone flung free of the girl’s hand, and the ghosts whooped in triumph as Kylo slithered along the wall to get a better look. Finally, without that damn glow, he could see her face—young, beautiful...confused. 

She scrambled into an upright sitting position as she stared at her phone, now laying facedown on the ground. 

Brows knitting together, she looked at her hands, then the phone, and back at her hands. 

“Careful how much you drink, Rey,” she quietly chastised herself.

“Alcohol doesn’t make objects fly!” Han huffed, but Kylo fixated only on her last word. 

“ _Rey_...” he repeated, tasting the sound on his tongue. His lips parted in a breathless grin as she stood and stretched, her shirt raising a bit over her flat abdomen. When she stepped towards the bathroom, he crept away, back into the shadows of the bedroom. She’d be going to sleep soon. Then...oh, then, he could finally have her, fulfill his purpose after so many fruitless decades of existence.... 

Squeezing back under the mattress, he crouched with gleeful anticipation, almost forgetting his tail was still hanging out before he noticed it twitching of its own accord. He quickly grabbed it and yanked it out of sight moments before Rey padded into the bedroom.

As the girl climbed atop the bed, and the mattress weighed down against the spines on his back, Kylo pressed himself as flat as possible against the cold floor and slowly exhaled. He stayed dead silent as he listened to every little movement above him, trying to decipher if Rey was asleep yet or not. 

Eventually, the bed went still and he assumed she’d drifted off. Licking his lips, he reached his spindly hands out from the foot of the bed, hooked his claws into the floor, and dragged himself out. The room still reeked of chemicals, but the smell had faded enough for him to sense Rey through it. 

He froze as a soft whimper reached his ears. Did she spot him?! Oh no, no, no, this was his only chance and he’d already ruined it—

But why no screams? Why no pitter-patter of panicked feet? Furrowing his brow, he rolled over to face the bed, peering carefully over the foot of the mattress. 

She didn’t look back. The tight coil of her body beneath the covers shielded her face, though he detected a faint shudder. Poor thing—was she cold? He knew just how to warm her up.... 

His claws closed around the edge of the blanket before he slipped his head underneath. His body soon followed as he crept up on the mattress, breathing in deep and releasing a shuddering sigh as he brushed against the girl’s legs.


	3. and Incubus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild dub-con in this chapter. Due to the nature of Incubus Kylo Ren, you can be assured that his methods to seduce Rey are not going to be conventional. Trust us, she enjoys herself, but mind the tags if dub-con is not your cup of tea.

Spitting the minty paste into the sink, Rey tapped off her toothbrush and placed it carefully on the surface of the counter. Straightening up, she ran a comb through her hair while she appraised herself in the mirror. She wasn't the type of person who fixated too much on their looks, but she never failed to notice her bony hips, her small breasts, her distinct lack of curves. 

She had looked much worse in the past, she reminded herself. Years of malnutrition had rendered her body once looking quite terrible. A year after leaving the system and a couple lucky breaks had let her feed herself much better. Now, her once-papery skin had a distinctly healthy glow to it, and her stomach was warm and soft to the touch. 

_Could be worse, Rey, could be worse._

Walking into the bedroom, she padded to the overly-large bed and collapsed into it with a breathless, happy sigh. The sheets no longer had a musky smell to them, thank goodness. No, the scent was crisp and clean with a hint of lavender. Sinking into the pillow, she relaxed into the stillness of the room. Content. 

Until a voice nagged into her mind that it was _too_ still. A familiar swoop in her gut preceded the wash of dread that coated her like a thick fog. Loneliness crept over her and dug its claws into her chest, making her curl into herself with a soft whimper. God, she hated this feeling. This terrible ache that never failed to make itself known in the moments before she would drift to sleep. If only she were stronger, she lamented. If only she knew how to conquer this one, terrible feeling...this _loneliness._

_Stupid, traitorous tears..._ wiping her face against the pillow, she tried and failed to ignore the wetness that gathered at the corner of her eyes. Though she had vowed to stop crying herself to sleep at the tender age of thirteen, her body had _never_ gotten the damn memo. Sometimes, it was only a bit of moisture that gathered at her eyes, other times, it was as though a faucet had turned and been left to run. 

Swiping her face against the pillow again, she growled softly, angry at herself. She should be _happy_ tonight. She was finally falling asleep in her own home, in America, and about to start a new life in college. What more could she ask for?

_A companion..._ her traitorous body whispered.

Pouting into the darkness of the room, she nearly missed the rustling sound of the sheets. Brows furrowing, she wondered for just a moment what the noise was when something brushed against her leg. Something _large_ and _warm_. 

Yelping, she jolted away and reached down, tugging the covers off her as her mind raced. Did an animal sneak into her apartment? Oh god, please don’t be a rat...

The sight she was met with left her stunned and frozen. It was no animal, it was...a man? No, but yes? A man with strange protrusions from his back, the top of his head, his hands...he looked... 

He looked like a bloody _demon_.

"You...you're not real..." she gasped, her mind refusing to process what was in her bed.

His wide eyes gleamed in the darkness. He tilted his head, brow quirking.

_Oh shit, oh fuck, oh god, no no no..._

The realization struck her like a blow to the chest. It was true. _All of it_ was true. The cult, their inexplicable demise, the suspected haunting and demonic activity... She didn't think she could believe it, she didn't _want_ to believe it, but what other explanation for _this_ was there? 

She wanted to imagine that the man before her was just in costume; but no...no, there was no way. The horns on his head were growing out from his skin. His ears were long and pointed and actually _flushed_ at the tips. The spines on his back were twitching, and his fingers...

She yelped again when those fingers wrapped around her ankles, trembling as he pulled her legs down around either side of his torso. One hand lingered on her knee while the other ghosted up over her chest to press a finger against her lips. 

Wide eyes full of fear stared down at him, a wince escaping her throat when he grinned at her, flashing his sharp teeth. Her subconscious provided a jarring reminder that the people who had been found dead in this flat had been torn to shreds. Had he done it with his _teeth_?! Was she next?! 

She whimpered again when he brought his face to her thighs, shuddering when she felt his warm, wet, _long_ tongue flick out over her skin. It would feel good if she wasn't certain that she was going to die.

"P-please don't eat me," she squeaked, hating how frightened and small she sounded. "Just-- Just kill me quickly. Get it over with."

She was already as good as dead. She just hoped this creature knew mercy and she might be spared torture...

* * *

The rounded edge of a horn rubbed against her hip as he tilted his head, eyes half closed and completely black as he felt her legs quiver beneath his tongue. The forked end flicked against her inner thigh again and he growled deep in his throat as his palms dragged over her abdomen to her hips. 

He’d never gotten the chance to taste a woman before, but he’d fantasized about it for years, wondering how honeyed and fragrant it might be. Already, he was getting a hint of an answer. It wasn’t what he expected—so far, her skin was more salty than sweet, but it wasn’t unpleasant. 

Desire was coiling at the base of his spine when Rey’s frightened squeak distracted him. 

_Eat her?_ Kylo’s eyes narrowed as they met hers. He shook his head slowly. He wasn’t _that_ kind of demon. There was only one way he wanted to devour her, and it wasn’t literally. 

His claws caught on the elastic band of her shorts, and he huffed in frustration, yanking them down over her hips, then flinging them over his shoulder. He didn’t even notice the other, lacier garment that came down with her shorts. 

She made a indignant, angry little nose. “Oi…!”

He hissed between his teeth, trying as gently as possible to tell her to keep quiet. As much as he loved hearing her voice, and wanted to hear much more of it, he feared drawing attention from the others in the house. The ghosts would just taunt him and kill his mood, and the other...Kylo shuddered to think about what happened if they accidentally awakened _him_. 

Hoping she got the message, and that the touch of his lips rather than his teeth would assure her she was in no danger, he settled himself firmly between her legs. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses back and forth from one knee to the other, slowly working his way down as his arms curled around her thighs to hold her steady. She squirmed under him deliciously as her skin warmed beneath his touch. Her arousal permeated the air, but it was undercut with a current of fear.

“What are you doing to me...?” she asked, her voice softer than a whisper. 

Raising his head from where it had been laying inches from her core, he scanned his gaze over her curiously...she seemed to be a fully matured human from what he could tell—didn’t she _know_ what he was doing? 

Well, apparently not. He couldn’t fulfill his purpose if she was going to be tense with worry or fighting him the whole time. He still didn’t want to frighten her with his voice, but it seemed he had no other option if he wanted her to understand. 

His tongue swiped over his lips before he parted them to answer in as soft a tone as he could manage. Even with his best efforts though, his voice came out unnaturally low and rumbling. 

_”I just want to please you, Rey...”_

As soon as he spoke, he noticed her flush, felt her skin heat up beneath his palms. A knowing smirk spread over his lips. 

"Oh..." she breathed the word. "Uh-- Why?"

He crept up over her, planting his hands on either side of her shoulders. His shaggy hair partially obscured a golden, glowing eye as he gazed down at her. 

_”Don’t you know what I am?”_ he purred, tilting his head. _”I’ve been waiting for this day since I was summoned...making your heart race, making you squirm and sing...it is my sole purpose...”_

He noticed her gaze trailing over his arms, and frowned for a moment, wondering if the spines or the horns frightened her instead of his voice, as he’d expected. Never encountering a human like this before, he wasn’t sure what to expect. All he knew was that some believed very strongly in creatures like him while others didn’t even seem to notice his presence—like Rey, until now. 

He hovered over her in still silence, patiently letting her take her fill of looking at him. Her eyes traced an electric current over his arms, his hands, his chest, his neck, his face, his horns... A hint of a smile crinkled at the corner of his eyes as he looked back, taking in all her lovely little freckles, the sharp curve of her jaw, the plush pink of her lips… she was gorgeous.

Finally, she shook her head and met his gaze. "I... I don't know what you are, other than a demon."

A little chuckle escaped him as he lightly skimmed his claws over her arms. 

_”Incubus is the word...”_ he informed her in a deep murmur as his body sunk back over hers, lips dragging down her belly before reaching the apex of her thighs. Before he laid his mouth on her, he reached one finger up to press against her lips, giving his wordless warning before his long tongue swiped over her waiting folds.

His black eyes rolled back as soon as he got the taste of her on his tongue. After being denied for so long, he probably would’ve been ecstatic to taste _any_ woman, but Rey had to be what mortals considered exceptional. Musky, sweet, subtle yet overwhelming all at the same time...a growl rumbled in his throat before he grabbed onto her thighs and plunged his tongue past her slick lips, as deep as he could go.

Her gasps and whimpers only encouraged him as he worked his tongue deeper, hands kneading at her thighs while keeping them wide open for him. 

It was surely blasphemous to say, but she tasted like pure _heaven_. He could do this for hours...even past dawn, if she closed the curtains. 

His blood sang in his veins and pooled in the pit of his belly. His cock throbbed for her after only a few licks and thrusts, and he had to grind his hips against the mattress to relieve some of the aching tension. Faintly recalling what he’d learned eons ago about the female anatomy, eavesdropping on other incubi (and the occasional succubi), he slipped his thumb down from where it lay on top of her thigh to seek out her clit.

It took some fumbling—horribly embarrassing for a creature such as himself—but he managed to locate the hard little nub right above where his tongue was buried inside her. He wanted to furiously rub at her until she fell apart beneath him, but then he remembered— _”Gentle at first”_ , they’d said...right. 

The pad of his thumb grazed around her clit in wide circles, slowly spiraling in closer and closer before brushing against the hood. All the while, he kept up the movements of his tongue, tasting her as deeply and thoroughly as he could without a hint of hesitation.

When she cried out, much louder than before, and her walls tightened around his tongue, he nearly came himself. He groaned low and deep against her, and lapped at her folds as her tense legs slowly relaxed. Once she was limp, he withdrew, and crawled up over her until his lips hovered over her breasts. 

_"Exquisite...”_ he whispered, eyes practically glowing in the darkness as he looked up at her. He loved seeing his little human so soft and satisfied beneath him, boneless in his hands as if she didn’t care what he did with her. Oh, the things he wanted to do to her...once he’d seen what it was like to push her over the edge, he wanted to keep doing it, over and over until she couldn’t remember her own name.

His hands slid up her ribs, wrapping nearly all the way around them, before his thumbs brushed over her nipples. He didn’t know whether to taste them first, or her lips. After toying with her breasts for a few moments, with firm squeezes and teasing pinches, he made his decision, and pressed his mouth hard against hers.

* * *

Never, _never_ had she been able to achieve such an earth-shattering orgasm by her own hands or that of a lover’s. She felt absolutely _wrecked_ , panting and gasping into the air as the last post-orgasmic tremors ran through her. 

Her body had also never felt so _relaxed_ after an orgasm. As she watched the creature rise above her, she decided that maybe she would be alright with him killing her, after all. How could anyone live up to _that_? 

Blinking lazily, she watched his huge hands engulf her torso and bit her bottom lip. A whimper escaped her when he swiped a clawed finger over her nipple. His squeezing and ministrations were almost soothing, and her eyes trailed up his huge, muscled form and met his beautiful glowing eyes. 

She offered him a slight smile, making a muffled sound of surprise when he brought his lips to hers. She melted into it instantly. “Mmm...” she moaned into his mouth, poking her tongue out to swipe against his lips.

He parted them without question, his body pushing her deeper into the mattress as he plunged his tongue into her mouth. His hands skimmed over the curve of her breasts to her neck, where she was sure he could feel her pulse fluttering beneath his fingertips.

His hips settled fully between her thighs, the head of his cock twitching as it nudged against her slit. She whimpered against his lips, shuddering at the sensation. Her eyes opened slowly when he pulled away, and she followed his gaze. Her breath caught at the sight of him. 

He was huge, and there was something distinctly alien about his cock. Not enough to be truly alarming, but the size and girth of it had to be unnatural. She gasped, jolting against the pillows when he slid teasingly between her folds.

_”Are you ready for me, sweetness?”_ he murmured, dark voice rumbling.

Her throat was dry as a desert. “I...don’t know if you’re going to fit...”

_Oh fuck, oh shit, if he tries to shove that in, he's going to rip me in half…_

A soft whimper escaped her as he ground against her again, sending sparks dancing through her as the head of his cock brushed over her clit, but her fear was outweighing her excitement. She watched his eyes as he frowned and looked between them again, taking stock of his size against her.

He brought his lips back to her ear, and she shivered as his breath ghosted along her temple. _“Let me try...I’ll go as slow as it takes...I won’t let you feel anything you don’t want to feel...”_

She hesitated. His lips brushed up and down her neck while he waited for her response, nipping and licking her skin. Everywhere that he touched felt electrified. She’d never been so ridiculously wound up; usually desire was barely anything more than an itch that needed to be scratched. Easily handled with her fingers or, if the hormones were raging, her vibrator. Rarely did she feel the need to scour the dating apps or head out to a club. She hadn’t had a hookup in well over a year. 

A fact that made his size all the more daunting. 

But he had promised that he wouldn’t hurt her. And if his cock could make her feel even a fraction of what his lips and tongue had, then she wanted it. 

Exhaling shakily, she forced her frenzied nerves to relax. "Alright..."

He nuzzled her with a pleased little growl, then raised his head and kissed her hard. She made a little noise of surprise against his mouth as his tongue plunged past her lips, licking deep, then moaned when he ground harshly against her. 

His palms curved around the backs of her thighs and pushed them towards her chest, tilting her hips until he was comfortably lined up with her entrance. He pressed inside slowly, just as promised. He was huge, and hot, stretching her on his cock. But it didn’t hurt, or burn. It was a strange sensation, but not altogether unpleasant. 

Fingers digging into the sheets, she gasped breathlessly as he slowly sunk deeper inside, her head swimming. He hissed, sharp teeth clenched tightly together, his hand gripping her hips hard while he nosed at her neck. 

He seemed to sink into her endlessly; filling her to the brim and then reaching even further. It was _exquisite_. Just as she thought she couldn’t possibly take any more, she felt his hips settle against her own. “Oh... Fuck...” she groaned, cracking her eyes open and craning her neck so she could peer down her body, feeling the hard weight of him settle inside her. Shifting her hips experimentally, she gasped as pleasure lanced through her. 

“Ah— fu- _fuck_...” she choked when he jerked against her. It felt like too much and yet completely perfect at the same time. He was testing her limits, and she was just barely able to accommodate him. 

Her curses didn’t hold a flame to the hissing word that fell from his lips. She didn’t have the faintest idea of what he said, but the way at which it assaulted her ears made her certain it wasn’t polite.

_“Rey…”_ The mattress squeaked as he half-thrusted in and out of her, far gentler than she ever thought possible.

While his hips slowly rocked between her thighs, his hands dragged up and over every curve of her body, exploring her as though she was the greatest puzzle he’d ever faced. He tickled the backs of her thighs, palmed at her breasts, teased her nipples...his thumb slid between her folds and started rubbing just as he sank all the way inside her a second time.

Fists tangling in the sheets, she grit her teeth as a slight sheen of sweat broke out over her brow. She felt him deeper than she could have ever imagined him going, his finger worked over her clit attentively, and her mind short-circuited into white noise as she cried out in ecstasy when he pressed his thumb hard into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

_"Lucifer, how I love your sounds..."_ he hissed in her ear, humming in time with her gasps. He leaned back to rock deeper inside her, sliding hand over her lower abdomen and pressing down. Another rasping curse fell from his lips as she cried out, clenching around him, head thrashing against the sheets. He thrust harder, thumb furiously circling her clit until she seized around him.

_"Yes, yes, yes-!"_ He gasped and growled, his hips stuttering in their movements as their combined ecstasy blended into one primordial song. 

* * *

His satisfaction only lasted through the minutes of their shared orgasm. The moment he felt himself falling back to earth, he wanted to fuck her again, to crawl back up to the stars and float there forever. 

So he did. He took her in every way he could imagine. He twisted her limbs into any position that found them the most pleasure. She sang for him like a lark, receiving every inch of him as he buried himself in her again and again. He soaked the sheets in her essence. 

She was a resilient little thing, lasting hours and hours. But how much could one little human take? And how many hours of night remained before he had to retreat to the shadows? As he slowly pulled out of her twitching warmth for the upteenth time, he found his answer in the horrid, golden glow filtering through her curtains. 

"Sunrise already...!" he spat, tail flicking as he slunk off her body to the floor beside her bed. Before he disappeared beneath it, he gave her a final, longing stare, accompanied by a quiet command. 

_"Board up those bloody windows."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Jessica here. Julia and I hope you enjoyed this fic! Let us know what you think below!


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